The price of heroism
by freamy fream
Summary: TGB My input on when Otis had to feed off Henry when Vlad was fighting off D'ablo, Jasik, & Ignatious. Rated T just incase.


Hey, guys!  
So, after a LOOONG story hiatus, I am finally back! And I bring you this storryyy. c:  
It's something I had to write for my english project, and I decided I would share it with you guys!  
So yea, some critique would be nice. Or at least a simple, one-worded review would suffice. xD

~Love, Arden. :D

* * *

It was right about now Henry wished he could have said 'I told you fed ex wasn't such a bad idea'. Of course, considering the fact that he was being forcefully dragged by his hair to be locked into an isolated cell with a dehydrated vampire, he thought that, in his best interest, this wouldn't necessarily be the most appropriate time.

Struggling to keep up with the mercenaries as he was being towed away to his inevitable demise, Henry couldn't help but regret not being able to aid his friend in his time of need. Sure, his best friend, Vlad, who is proclaimed to be the 'Pravus': a child conceived from a vampire father and a mortal mother, was said to have the power of immortality, but he was facing off against one of the most infamous vampires in all of the Elysian Counsel, D'ablo, who was also suspected of murdering Vlad's own father.

Guilt brewed in his gut, gnawing away at the lining of his stomach as horrific images of his very own best friend being mutilated by a freak with crazy extraction rituals and a sharp blade flickered violently through his mind. On an impulse, he attempted to escape, thrashing his limbs in all directions in hope of reaching Vlad before it was too late. However, his attempts were proven futile as he felt the vampire guard's monstrous grip tighten around his arm and shove him forward on his broken ankle, eliciting a strident cry to crawl out of his hoarse throat.

Waves of pain racked his fragile, human body, and his stomach began to churn violently as he drew closer and closer to his demise. His body became numb, and he felt as though it was not really him it was happening to; rather he was watching from far away, like a movie of some sort.

He was, however, shortly snapped out of his catatonic state as the ear-shattering sound of the metal door swinging open and colliding with the adjoining metal gates reverberated off the walls and into his sensitive ears. His limp body was carelessly tossed inside, landing on the floor with a hard thump. Otis, the other prisoner, was also tossed in, and before he knew it, the two mercenaries, Ignatious and Jasik, had locked them in and retreated to whatever business they needed to attend to.

It was then Henry was most aware of his surroundings. They had been hauled into a dark, dank room with scarce light, provided by the waxy candles burning on their holders attached to the damp, brick walls. Judging by the amount of humidity in the air and the dirt floors, he could only assume that they were someplace underground, probably far, far away from the top floor, where Vlad and D'ablo were. A smart move on their part.

Henry then churned his head to glance at Otis, who was three shades paler than usual, with fangs fully elongated and eyes glimmering with something that made his stomach jump to his throat. Henry figured that he could probably kill Otis, seeing as though he himself only had minor injuries, whereas Otis underwent several stabs to vital organs and broken bones, not to mention being fatally dehydrated. However, he couldn't bring himself to do it, seeing as though he was Vlad's only, most beloved blood-related family left. And besides that, Otis always took care of Vlad, and tried to help him the best way he could. Heck, part of the reason Vlad was fighting was for Otis, and if he killed him now…

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you." A raspy voice broke his train of thought, causing him to jump. Henry truly felt pity for the man, but further-more, respect. He knew the only reason he hadn't already devoured him was because he knew that Henry was his nephew's truest best friend, and one of the only people Vlad could rely on when Otis was fleeing the country in order to hide from the Elysian Counsel. A pang of guilt throbbed in his heart as he looked into the man's sincere eyes, cursing himself for ever coming up with such a terrible idea.

"Vlad," Henry's lips began moving before his brain could even register, "is he going to be… alright?" His voice cracked on the last word, tears which had painfully worked their way to brim his eyes now threatening to betray him.

A sickening silence followed, and the look on Otis' face confirmed his worst fear, which swallowed him up whole.

".. which is why we need to save him." A very thin, feeble strand of hope began to form within Henry's heart, as if he had consumed by the ocean in a storm and had been thrown a small lifesaver.

"But how? You can't stand, let alone fight off three armed, ravenous vampires." The look of despondency on Otis' face caused his stomach to shrivel in defeat.

"You go. I'll stay here, create a diversion, make it look like I ate you." Henry's eyes widened, and sheer shock evaporated everything off of his tongue.

"No," the boy croaked, his voice shaken with fear, "no, you can't stay here. They'll find out, and when they do, they'll kill you!" Unable to hold back anymore, the dam of tears broke, lapping over mauled skin on his face.

"I have no choice. I have already taken fatal blows. There's no hope for me. I'll make a distraction, and you and Vlad make a run for it. Run as fast as you can, and don't look back until you reach Bathor-"

"No, no, NO!" Henry shrieked, his fists now clenching the fabric of the man's shirt, holding him centimeters from his own face, which was swollen and red, and had salty tears trickling down it. He struggled to control his sobbing-induced convulsions, however they proved to out-strengthen him and his arms wobbled as he held Otis.

"You CAN'T die, Otis! You CAN'T! Vlad, he needs more than ever! You can't let him down, Otis, you _can't_."

Otis' stoic façade finally crumbled, and his bloodied, battered face twisted in pain. There was a hitch in his heavy breathing, and crystalline tears brimmed the ducts of his swollen eyes. Henry could see Otis' own fear gripping him behind his deteriorated mask, but the man's resolve didn't weaken. His face resembled a soldier about to boldly enter a suicide mission, saying his last goodbyes to his family at home before he perished in the bloody fray.

"_I'm sorry, Henry. But there's no other choice."_

The man's words penetrated his aching heart, and Henry choked on a heavy sob. He bawled out the last shred of his depleted dignity, not caring how much of a baby he looked like. He felt so helpless, pitiful; a damsel in distress who needed to be saved and was useless to the situation. A life had to be sacrificed because of his own weakness. And here he sat, bawling and crying like an infant who wanted it's blanket. He was disgusted with himself.

"There has to be something! Something I can-" A dawning realization struck him mid-sentence, and his eyes grew huge at the enlightenment. The words that were on his tongue evaporated into the tense air and Henry could feel his heart hammering hard against his ribcage. An ocean of fear formed around him and swallowed him up whole. But he couldn't be overcome by this. He had to do it. It was the only way to get them out alive.

Swallowing his cowardice, the fifteen-year-old moved his shaky arm up to the collar of his t-shirt, giving it a hard tug and exposing his pale, tantalizing neck. Otis was at a loss for words, using every ounce of will power his body contained to keep him from tearing into the blue, prominent veins protruding from his stark pale flesh. His eyes ravenously scanned the untapped source of food, his mouth involuntarily salivating. Fangs which were already elongated to a scary length suddenly doubled in size, and his chest began to rise as he heaved hitched breaths.

"Bite me," Henry choked out, his face contorted in pain and fear. Now he knew what a martyr felt like. "Feed off of me. You'll regain your strength and you can save Vlad."

"Henry, I-I can't!" Although Otis sounded sincere, his facial expressions and body language said otherwise. Henry knew that in Otis' mind he was currently tearing away at his pale, vulnerable neck.

Swallowing the large lump that formed in his throat, Henry croaked out, "You have to, it's the only way we can save Vlad." He felt his heart raising to his throat, and more tears pricked his swollen eyes. "Just hurry up and do it."

Without further ado, the vampire nestled his fangs against the tender stretch of skin that separated him from the marvelous fountain of blood. The sharp teeth poked a hole through Henry's tender skin, eliciting a soft yip from him. Otis held him steady in his lap, arms wrapped around the boy's torso, elevating him so he could get the perfect angle.

Henry had never tried drugs (he knew his older brother would beat him senseless), but this was probably the closest thing to being high that he could get. His eyes rolled to the back of his head instinctively, and as Otis indulged himself in generous helpings of his rich rubies, an odd sensation came over the boy. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before. The rest of his body went numb, and he was struggling for the feeling in his head. The rest of the world blurred in his eyes, and all he could hear was the sound of the vampire lapping up his blood.

Henry felt like his body was floating on thin air. And the way the rest of the world collided into one big panorama gave it an odd, surreal feeling. It transcended space and time and was the most incredible feeling he had ever experienced. Sure, it was going to leave some big, nasty bruises on his neck which he would have to explain to his mother, but none of that seemed to matter. He seemed to be losing his grip on reality and falling into some sort of oblivion.

After what seemed an interminable amount of time, a faint, ringing voice reached his ear, which almost sounded like Vlad. With his thin strand of consciousness that he seemed to retain, Henry figured it was just his imagination, or that he wanted to hear him so bad that he was. That one sliver of reasoning told him that it was impossible for him to have defeated Jasik, Ignacious, and D'ablo and had already come to rescue them. Impossible.

But the ringing grew louder and louder, and his brain began to visualize Vlad running toward him. As if he were free-falling through the atmosphere and hurtling toward Earth, the boy slowly began to regain his consciousness and the sound was soon met with a blurry figure. His senses were slowing awakening, and a form began to materialize next to him. It was shaped all too much like his best friend and sounded all too much like him that Henry began to wonder if this was a side effect of major blood loss.

Then, something incredible happened. He _felt _Vlad. He felt his cool, bloodied hands gripping his own pale, clammy skin. He could hear him calling his name, and could see the worry built up behind his eyes.

"Otis, what have you done?!" The voice grew louder, and the pain of the bruises on his neck began to cultivate. His numbness began to wear off, and he was slowly able to pull himself off Otis' lap.

Henry's eyes were met with the miraculous vision of Vlad, in the flesh, standing before him. Tears were welled up in his eyes, overcome with emotion at the sight of both his beloved uncle and best friend still alive. As Otis regained his self-awareness (opposed to the sole instinct to feed off his blood until there was nothing left but a small, shriveled prune), he explained to Vlad that Henry had suggested the idea.

As Henry regained his composure, he inwardly prayed that Vlad didn't notice the dried tear stains streaking down his face. But as he noticed the tears brimming his eyes, Henry couldn't help but to release a soft cry. It was all over, and he had saved Otis. Although it was hardly even a scratch compared to what Vlad had endured, Henry himself was beginning to feel like a hero.


End file.
